Good Trans News | Series 1 | Chapter 1 & 2
'Good Trans News' is an ongoing, serialised, dystopian trans novel. To read more of it (and get up to date), follow me on Instagram here or visit my website here. I am going to start uploading it here on Tumblr though, so if you enjoy it - please do stick around.
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The Womenās Institute will no longer allow transgender members. Trans girls banned from Girlguiding. Labour bans trans women from Womenās Conference. The Trump Administration plans to end prison rape protections for trans people, memo says.Ā
All of this has been announced in one week (and itās not even Saturday yet).Ā
This morning I opened my advent calendar and, where a chocolate should have been, was instead a cyanide capsule - and a short, cursive, seasonal message reading: Do it, tranny. I didnāt, of course. I wouldnāt be writing this now if I had - but I did put it away somewhere safe, about my person, just in case.
I am no longer leaving the flat. I Deliveroo or JustEat everything I need right to my door. Hot dinners, groceries, tobacco - cyanide capsules. Even a phone charging cable if I need it. I donāt, but Iāve ordered 5 anyway. You never know, these days. Why leave the flat? Why risk it? I have a toilet here, and I can use it whenever I like with no stipulations (and I need to, often - due to all the fast food).Ā
Socialising isnāt necessary anymore. All my friends are inside my phone, inside of apps. And when theyāre not available, I have the comments sections and DMs. And when no one's there, I chat with my favourite AI chatbot on Amazon - making up fake complaints and refund claims for conversation.
A letter just dropped through my letter box. Itās from the government - they say theyāre commandeering my toilet. Itās going to a ābiological woman who needs itā - to make up for all the times I unlawfully used a public ladies room in the past 15 years. Tomorrow, I can expect some men to come by and take it out. They will leave me with one gratis box of hazardous waste bags, which when out Iāll need to pay to be refilled.Ā
Some good news! I received a phone call from the Womenās Institute, and they say they are creating a new division to cater to their trans former-members. Itāll be called The Trans Womenās Institute. The address is a hospital, and membership is mandatory. Theyāre sending a van on Sunday to pick me. Iām very excited to be āInstitutionalisedā - as they put it.Ā
Iāve lost my cyanide capsule. Typical me. I shouldnāt have scrimped on the next-day delivery. Iāll be off to The Institute before the new ones arrive. Oh well.Ā
More good news! The men who came to confiscate my toilet were actually really nice. One of them said I had a āgood bumā, and it made me feel valid. One problem - they didnāt quite disconnect the pipes properly and now I have water flooding my bathroom. Luckily, I donāt need to worry about my flat anymore, they say - as Iāll be off to the Trans Womenās Institute soon enough, where Iām told Iāll live in peace with all my other trans sisters. Joy of joys!
The more I think about the idea, the more I come to understand it. I can see how itās probably for the best. Society just doesnāt get us - and I guess they never will. Separatism has benefits. At least Iāll be around people who get me.
Itās 4 oāclock, and a few minutes ago there was a loud knocking on my door. Men and women in white jumpsuits came up to my flat, and now theyāre packing a bag for me. No clothes needed - they say they have a new wardrobe waiting for me at The Institute. Thatās wonderful, because Iāve given up on looking nice lately. Every time I buy a new dress, or top, or whatever, the sizes donāt ever quite work out. Iām not allowed to use ladies changing rooms, so Iāve had to order all my clothes online, and just guess the size.Ā
They say I can bring my notebook, but no electronics. No phone. No laptop. Probably for the best - as weāve all become attached to them, havenāt we? Itāll be a nice little holiday away from doom scrolling. As we leave the flat, water is pouring out from the hole where my toilet used to be. They tell me itās going to a biological woman named Christina who is having a third bathroom put in, and needs it to match her tiling. It feels good to give back.Ā
The back of the van is comfy enough. Iām sitting next to two girls Iāve never met before. New friends! One looks younger than me - blonde, skinny and very well passing. She could be a model. The other is older, and is crying. I ask her what her name is, and she tells me Emily. She says her cat was confiscated. I tell her not to worry - itāll most probably have a good home with a kind, heteronormative family whoāll have enough shared income to treat it better. Give it premium food, and such.
The Institute is a chance for us to āescape the conflicting pressures of a sane societyā where ātranssexuals can be free to exist as they areā - thatās according to this pamphlet anyway. There is a photoshopped image on the front of a sisterhood of smiling trans women, arm in arm, in what appears to be a beautiful garden.Ā
The younger blonde girl hasnāt spoken to me. She has her head up against the window, and is muttering something to herself that I canāt quite make out.Ā
Sheāll come around, Iām sure. This is all for the best really - God knows I was struggling to afford the rent. And, according to this pamphlet here, Iāll ānever have to worry about any of that againā. So thatās something.Ā
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jeniveswords.substack.com
lobotomyworld.substack.com
jenives.net
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